


Sanctuary (Lucifer x Reader)

by sondepoch



Series: The Elite [1]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Kissing, NSFW, Oneshot, Penis In Vagina Sex, Prostitute Reader, Prostitution, Smut, Wholesome, demon reader, fem reader - Freeform, part of a series, porn with very miniscule plot, soft dom lucifer, sub luci AND dom luci, yes there's both
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:55:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26893294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sondepoch/pseuds/sondepoch
Summary: Lucifer schedules a last-minute appointment with you and is in dire need of some stress relief.As his private escort, you’re ready to deliver. But there’s more to taking care of Lucifer than just sex—even if the sex is absolutely mind-blowing.~Part of a series, but can be read as a oneshot <3
Relationships: Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Lucifer/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Series: The Elite [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1962094
Comments: 9
Kudos: 196





	Sanctuary (Lucifer x Reader)

Lucifer is your most difficult client.

Other demons are easy. You barely have to think. A single glance as they enter your room is all it takes for you to know what kind of mood they're in, whether they want to fuck their frustrations out through your body or simply be worshipped with your touch.

But the mask Lucifer wears betrays nothing.

The edges of your lips quirk upward, the wheels of your brain already beginning to move as you begin to decipher the enigma that is _him._

"I apologize for making such a last-minute appointment," He mutters, removing his jacket. Sometimes, he'll fling it to the ground and pounce on you immediately, the demon desperate to remove every article of clothing that separates him from you. On other occasions, the look in his eyes will take on a darker tone and he'll toss the cloak your way, ordering you to wear it before fucking you in his own clothes so your scent carries him home.

But today, all he does is hang the jacket over the edge of your chair with mute resignation, the demon looking utterly worn-out.

"I hope I didn't force you to cancel on any other clients."

"Oh, you don't need to worry about that." You crawl off your bed and pad over to Lucifer, cupping his cheek. "I didn't have to cancel anything."

You did. A high-ranking minister in Purgatory requested your company for some stress relief, something he'd consciously scheduled with you nearly a month ago because he knew how hard it is to get time alone with someone as sought-after as you.

But Lucifer pays double. And Lucifer is a regular. And Lucifer doubtlessly needs you more tonight, so Lucifer's desired appointment took precedence over the minister's.

"It's not like you, though." You drop your hands to the turtleneck he wears, taking your time as you slide the cloth out of the buttons. "I don't think you've ever requested me on such short notice."

You keep your gaze trained on his shirt, but you're watching his micro-expressions in your peripheral vision. The gentle bob of his throat. The slightest twitch of his lips. Nothing goes unnoticed by your trained mind.

_He's exhausted._

You take a step back, studying the demon. His shoulders are held back and his chin is high, but the posture is hardly a reflection of his true feelings.

Lucifer stays quiet.

"So which of your brothers was it this time?" You take a step forward, looping your arms around the demon's neck so that he can't avoid your eyes. Your voice is impossibly gentle as you speak your next words: "Tell me."

And the mask slips off.

"All of them," Lucifer groans, resting his forehead on yours. It almost makes you stumble, because the demon is practically leaning his full body weight on you in this position, but you hold your ground. You're here to make Lucifer feel stable, not to fall with him.

"And now there's a human exchange student living with us, so _they're_ caught up in the shenanigans."

Internally, you wince. Lucifer's brothers are difficult enough on their own—you know that much from the few times where he had you come to his place instead of coming to yours—but a human? Mortals are walking whirlwinds of disaster, no matter where they go. The very thought of one in Lucifer's home sends a pang of sympathy straight to your heart.

"Come on," You mumble into his ear. "I'll help you forget about all of them."

You walk him to your bed—his bed, if you're being precise. Everything you own, from the pale red paints on your walls to the candles by your bedside, is a gift from Lucifer. Not for any lack of money on your part, but because he insists on only the highest (and coincidentally the most ludicrously priced) goods for your quarters. His argument— _if I'm going to be spending my time here, the things you own may as well be to my liking—_ was weak, but you'd learned early-on in your relations with Lucifer that the demon has little care for money when it comes to the people he likes.

And you're his favorite.

"Satan set my shoes on fire this morning."

You cringe, opting not to ask whether Lucifer was wearing his shoes at the time of his brother's prank or not, merely pulling him onto the bed.

"Levi has purchased nearly half of Akuzon's inventory, and all of it is sitting outside the house."

You tug Lucifer down with you as you lay his head on a pillow, trying to get the demon to relax.

"Asmo wants diamond-encrusted nails."

You raise your eyebrows at that, not because of the absurdness of the demon's request but because you're confident that the last time Lucifer came over, he complained about Asmodeus asking for liquid gold nail polish.

"Belphie is still casting hexes on me every time I go to see him."

You cast a glance of sympathy his way, but Lucifer's eyes are far away as he continues to rattle off his siblings' most recent shenanigans.

"And the Mammon forced the human exchange student to eat Beel's custard, so half the kitchen is currently destroyed."

You trace patterns on Lucifer's shirt as he continues to tell you the details of the day, muttering about Lord Diavolo and the demon butler, a dynamic duo that only ever adds stress to Lucifer's life.

You don't interrupt him as he speaks.

It's not rare for your sessions with him to be like this. Being one of the most important demons in the Devildom is hardly an easy task, and Lucifer needs _someone_ to unload onto. He needs more than a prostitute. He needs a confidant, a listener, a _friend._

And you'll be damned if you don't give Lucifer what he needs.

"I don't know how you do it," You mumble when Lucifer finally falls silent. You're certain there's more—there's _always_ more with Lucifer, the demon subjected to an eternity of stress upon stress with only you for an outlet—but you want the demon to stop thinking about his woes. To stop focusing on everything that's weighing his mind down. To speak the words and then be free of them, and for that drained look in his eye to disappear. "You must be exhausted, Lucifer."

"I am." Lucifer sighs deeply, running his fingers over the silk of your lingerie. He mentioned once that the softness of the fabric was soothing, and you've made sure to have it on for his visits ever since. "That's why I made this appointment so last-minute. I just..."

"You just couldn't?"

You smile sweetly at Lucifer, rolling on top of him so that you're straddling his body with your palms on his cheeks.

"That's okay, Lucifer." You lean forward, confident that you've figured out what he's feeling, what he wants, what he _needs._ You've decoded the enigma, and all that's left is to execute. "Let me take care of you."

You hardly give him any time to respond, pressing your lips against his the moment the words have left you.

As expected, you meet resistance. Lucifer leans upward, his instincts shouting at him to take control and take the lead as he usually does, but you push his body back onto the bed before he can get any momentum, clicking your tongue softly as you proclaim that _you'll_ be in charge this time.

He hides it well, but you swear that for a second, Lucifer looks relieved at the prospect of getting to let someone else do all the work.

You grin.

It may have been nothing more than a flicker of the light, the candles by your bedside shifting unsteadily as they cast moving shadows on the walls, but that's all the encouragement you need.

"Arms up," You command softly, pulling the fabric of Lucifer's shirt over his head. He wears nothing underneath, his nipples already hardened and awaiting your touch, but you pause to admire the milky smoothness of his body.

"Beautiful," You coo, leaning forward to lay a chaste kiss on Lucifer's neck. "You're always so breathtaking, Lucifer."

You feel his erection hardening under you at your praise, the Avatar of Pride hardly immune to his most intrinsic vice.

Moving downward, you settle over your favorite spot on his collarbone before latching your lips against the skin, sucking and biting and pulling all at once, using your teeth to leave a mark that won't fade for days. It's not his sweet spot—no, that's right behind his ear—but down on his chest is the only place Lucifer ever lets you mark him, the demon too _proud_ to let you mark him for the world to see.

After a moment, you lean your head back to admire your work; Lucifer's cheeks have a lovely flush to them, and the demon looks undeniably _cute_ as he remains underneath you, still held back by your hands which press his shoulders against the bed.

But the single hickey you've laid across his collarbone stands out on his skin. It's bare. Isolated. Lonely.

You have no choice but to add more.

"You have such soft skin," You drawl, your lips settling over a spot just above his nipple. "I could do this for centuries."

It's the truth. Lucifer's skin might be even softer than yours, despite all your efforts to keep it as smooth and silky as possible for your clients. It's almost _too_ easy to mark him up, his pale skin darkening the moment you drag the blunts of your teeth close, and you can't help but wonder how easily his body would react if you were to use your _actual_ teeth…

"Wha—" Lucifer flinches, his hands flying to your waist, ready to throw you off.

"Relax," You mumble, pressing a kiss to the spot where you sank your fangs in. It was hardly even a proper bite—demon teeth are built for ripping flesh to pieces after all, not for simple love bites—but Lucifer's skin is bruised all the same, and you can make out the spot where you bit him. "You're so much worse when _you_ bite me, Lucifer." You giggle, leaning back. "I didn't even draw blood."

For all the pain Lucifer likes to dish out, he certainly can't take much of it. The demon's cheek flushes the slightest, and you're certain that if he were in his true form, his feathers would be puffed up in mock offense.

"It's okay, though." You lift your body the slightest, removing your hips from where they had previously been grinding against Lucifer's crotch. "I won't bite you again unless you want me to."

You shoot a cheeky grin at Lucifer as you undo his belt, flashing your fangs before freeing his cock.

"You're awfully confident tonight."

Lucifer's words are smooth, controlled. But no amount of composure can hide the pinks of his ears.

"What can I say?" You hum, pulling his slacks off slowly. "It's the first time you haven't shut me up by now."

Lucifer rolls his eyes softly, a puff of air leaving his lips in mild indignation, but you quit your teasing to pull Lucifer's manhood out, freeing him of his final garments.

"Always so pretty," You coo, running your fingers along his length. He's already hard from your earlier ministrations, and you hear the faintest sigh slip past his lips when your thumb grazes over the tip.

"Close your eyes," You encourage, leaning down to lay a kiss against the base. _"Relax."_

Of course, Lucifer pays your words no heed, leaning his head against the pillow and watching your every move. The red eyes stare at you with an almost scary intensity, the demon unwilling as ever to let you do your job without studying your every move.

You do your best to ignore his steely gaze, opting instead to set your sights on the beautiful curve of his cock and how _delicately_ it twitches when you run your tongue from the base to the tip.

"Do not _tease_ me," Lucifer spits, his voice sounding more pouty than angry.

 _This is hardly teasing_ , you want to tell him, but you figure that he's had to deal with enough back-talk from his brothers today, so you silently comply with his request and wrap your lips around the head, letting your tongue dance sensually around it.

A deep sigh slips from Lucifer's lips, his body relaxing instantly at your touch.

You smile.

After centuries of being Lucifer's sole escort, the only courtesan he's ever sought, you've conditioned his body to recognize that with _you_ comes _peace._ That when his cock is inside you, be it your mouth or your hand or any of your holes, everything else in the world disappears. For him to be with you means his brothers are away, the prince is on his own, and the butler cannot summon him. It means that he is untouchable for a short few hours, the whole world barricaded outside by four walls which hold him invincible. It means that he can let go of the stress which collars him so tightly, letting him breathe the essence of _freedom,_ a flavor he forgets whenever he leaves your side.

It means he can _relax_ —something you're determined to make him do.

You take Lucifer deeper in your mouth, slackening your jaw as you glance upward.

His eyelashes have fluttered shut at the very sensation, and you see his fingers twitching with the urge to push you further down.

"Good girl," He mumbles breathily when you take him deeper, your throat twitching around his length. His hand settles over your head, long fingers bobbing your head at a steady pace. "Perfect. Just like that."

You move your hands to aid him, one hand finding its position around his balls and the other pumping the part of Lucifer's length that you can't fit inside your mouth. He's too big for you to possibly deepthroat (you learned that the hard way, unfortunately), but Lucifer doesn't mind, another appreciative sigh slipping from his lips when you swallow around him.

 _Relax,_ you want to tell him when you realize that his eyes have opened again, but then you realize that the reds have lost their analytical gaze. They're gentler now, staring at you in soft awe, as if watching _you_ is what's getting Lucifer off.

_Oh?_

The realization sparks an idea in your mind, and you shoot Lucifer a sultry stare, holding eye contact. He doesn't try to hide the way he swallows nervously, nor how his fingers tense around your head.

Amusement flitters through your mind.

If Lucifer wants a show, who are you to deny him?

You press your mouth further down before withdrawing, sliding your tongue along his length as the pressure in your throat abates, sucking on the tip for just a _tad_ longer before removing yourself completely with a gentle _pop_.

"Why are you—"

You cut Lucifer off when you dart your head down to suckle at the underside of his manhood, your mouth finding that _one_ vein that's more sensitive than the rest, flooding it with sensation.

Lucifer chokes back a garbled moan.

You lift your eyes to his, consciously slurping loudly around his length as he watches you with his lips parted in utter mesmerization. He practically freezes when you stare at him, eyes never straying as your hand resumes its earlier motions, pumping the upper half of his cock.

"Good," The demon grunts, trying his best to appear composed even though you can see in his eyes how every second further unravels him. "You're doing good."

 _Better than good,_ you think, sucking a little more insistently along the vein, running your tongue over it over and over again until Lucifer is _shuddering_.

"Th-that," He mumbles. "Keep doing that."

You don't hesitate to comply, your hands moving a little faster as you continue to suckle insistently, your tongue racing back and forth until Lucifer's thighs are twitching.

You can feel the pressure building in him, the demon drawing close to his climax as you continue to work him with your hands and tongue. And while you absolutely can be kind, giving him his high without a single hitch, you can't help but want to tease the demon a little, and so you pull your tongue backward just the slightest, flexing your fangs and just _grazing_ the bulging vein with them.

The sound that leaves Lucifer's mouth is ungodly.

It's something between a moan and a gasp, his hips desperately bucking upward the second he feels the coolness of your teeth on the most sensitive spot on his body, and you don't know if he reacted out of pain or pleasure, but you don't bother figuring it out, because seconds later you're pressing your mouth back around his cock, taking as much as you can into your mouth.

"Wait," Lucifer grunts, but the word sounds more like a moan than anything else. You swallow around him, bobbing your head and taking him a little deeper, pressing your throat lower.

The demon groans under your touch, his hands tugging on your hair, and you can't tell if he's pulling you higher or lower, so you guess and deepthroat him as far as you can go.

"No, _don't_ —" Lucifer gasps, pulling you off of him entirely, but it's already too late.

The demon is interrupted by the sound of his own pleasure as you glance down and watch his cock quivering in your hand, thick ropes of cum shooting up to paint your face with Lucifer's essence.

"Oh," You whisper, watching as a few more spurts of white fly up, covering your chin.

The room falls silent.

Your eyes never leave the demon's face, studying his expression curiously to figure out what's running through his mind. _Is he annoyed? Pleased? Angry?_ You stare at him expectantly.

It takes Lucifer a long moment to regain his composure, but when he's gathered himself, he's fully composed because the words that leave his mouth are so sharp that you'd never guess he had been cumming on your face just one minute ago.

"I _told_ you to wait, but—" You can already feel Lucifer preparing to chastise you, the demon ready to complain about how you've effectively cut your time short with him. But a single glance at your face, covered in his cum and drops of it still dripping down toward your breasts, silences him.

You can sense the moment where he decides that no, he's not going to be leaving. Not when you look like _this._

"Look at you," He whispers, using his thumb to swipe some cum off your lower lip. He holds it there, and you lean forward to lick it.

There's a long pause where the two of you just hold eye-contact, you staring innocently up at him from around his thumb, swallowing around the finger.

"I don't think you've ever looked this beautiful."

The demon pulls you closer, and you let him spin you around on the bed so that you're the one lying back and he's hovering on top of you. But still, his earlier orgasm is too recent for him to fuck you—but Lucifer seems more than content with feeding you his cum.

"Good girl," He whispers, his thumb gathering the liquid on your cheek before bringing it to your lips, where you suck on his fingers again. "So compliant."

You can feel the way his manhood stirs every time you swallow around him, his length growing harder and harder as he feeds you every drop of the liquid that he spilled on your face.

It's wholly unsurprising when, after he's positive that you've swallowed every drop, he grips your thighs and spreads them, reaching a finger down to play with your cunt. Wholly unsurprising, because you expected this, even when you climbed on top of him.

"My turn," The demon mumbles, kissing your neck before he tears the lingerie off your body, deftly ripping the whole thing and dropping both halves on the floor.

You would groan at the loss of another one of your favorite pieces, if not for the fact that you knew this would happen.

Because Lucifer isn't one to ever stay on the bottom.

Ever.

It was only a matter of _time_ until he took control, and it seems that the sight of you dressed in his cum did the trick.

"Fuck," You mumble when Lucifer's fingers curl inside you. He keeps his pace slow and steady, aware that his ultimate goal isn't to make you reach your climax but to get you wet enough for him to slip inside—and that bringing you over the edge can wait until then.

"Language," The demon chastises plainly. But his tone is light, almost playful. The look of exhaustion has faded from his eyes, replaced with the adrenaline that comes with _fucking_.

You shoot him a pout and he smirks in return, adding a finger to make you gasp.

"You _demon,"_ You groan, rolling your head back to enjoy the rolls of pleasure pulsating from your core.

"That's what I am, dear." Lucifer lays a kiss to your neck, his tongue brushing by your sweet spot with measured softness before his touch turns rough, and then he's biting, his sharp teeth sinking into your skin.

It's payback for earlier.

The very memory of Lucifer staring up at you, his body covered in bruises and hickeys, sends a rush of wetness down to your core, and Lucifer chuckles.

You _know_ he would be teasing you for it if his mouth weren't occupied.

"Lucifer," You moan freely, reveling in how his length twitches at the sound of his name falling so lewdly from your lips. "Lucifer, _fuck_ me."

You feel him hesitate, the demon ready to criticize you for your word choice and tell you _not_ to curse in his presence (he always asks, though that's one of the requests you never give in to—you're quite confident that it turns him on to see you reduce yourself to such vulgar words, no matter how fervently he denies it) but then he pulls away to study your expression, and the digits in your cunt slip out.

"You think you're ready for me?" Lucifer grins at you devilishly, licking your essence from his fingers. "Let's find out."

Not a sound slips from your lips when Lucifer lines himself up with your center, stretching your thighs back and holding them there as he slowly pushes inside.

You close your eyes through the pain, confident that you can bear it.

But for the last two inches of his cock, you can't help but think that it might have been a good idea to let him keep preparing you, because Lucifer is big and Lucifer _hurts._

"Good girl," He hisses, fingers tensing around your thighs.

He remains still for a moment when he's fully sheathed inside, waiting for your walls to relax around his cock and for you to stop holding your breath. The moment he detects your body adjusting, though, the mildly concerned look in his eye fades and it's replaced with the familiar, dominant expression you're used to seeing from him.

A peck on the lips is the only warning you get before the shackles of restraint snap.

 _"Lucifer,"_ You gasp when he withdraws only to bury himself deep inside you, easily finding that singular spot which makes your toes curl. An urge to babble out _oh my god_ enters your mind, but you know how he hates that, so it's all you can do to moan as he continues to hold your hips with an iron grip, the force of his movements shaking the bed as he ravages your body.

"Already so loud," The demon mumbles, grinning from atop you. If you weren't gasping with pleasure, you would scowl at him.

It's times like now when you hate Lucifer's pride.

The demon refuses to let himself be compared to anyone else, setting himself apart from the rest by making sure that _no one_ fucks you the way he does. When he comes to your bed, he's doing more than chase his own high—he's making sure you're just as addicted to the sex as he is, taking advantage of the fact that he knows the ins and outs of your body almost as thoroughly as you know his after all the centuries you've spent together in this arrangement.

And he makes full use of every drop of knowledge.

Lucifer drops his head to your breasts, taking one of them in his mouth and nibbling around the pert bud the way you like, never halting in his relentless pace.

"Lucifer," You sputter out, your hands torn between gripping his shoulders and swatting him away because it's _too_ much; but at the same time, it's not enough, and you wrap your legs around his waist because you know he can go faster. Go deeper. Go rougher, and make you gasp louder.

"Again," The demon mutters, his hand moving from the flesh of your thigh to grip the roundness of your ass, and you know there'll be bruises there tomorrow morning. "Say my name again."

You close your eyes, throwing your head back as you give in to his request.

It's unfair.

It's _so_ unfair.

When you're with clients who want to top you, it's supposed to be _easy._ You can let them do all the work, wrap your legs around their hips and your arms around your neck, moan prettily to bring them closer to their climax, and then the whole thing can be over without you ever losing your composure.

But with Lucifer?

Fat chance.

The sense of control he feels whenever he enters your room isn't a facade; every ounce of it is real. The sounds he pulls from your mouth are genuine, not a single one of them faked because you _can't_ fake a moan when he has you gasping so desperately for breath. It almost feels like you're the one employing him to fuck you with how diligently he burrows into you, worshipping your most sensitive spots with his mouth and body until all you can see, all you can feel, all you can think is _him_.

And it strokes his ego unlike anything else.

You choke back another gasp, your fingers scratching his back deep enough to draw blood as he brings you closer to the edge.

"Lucifer," You mumble, gasping. "Lucifer, I'm close. Oh, Lucifer—Lucifer—Luci— _"_

You cum hard around his cock, your legs momentarily gripping him so tightly that his pace stutters and he remains pressed against your G-spot as you convulse around him, your eyes dilating.

You see his lips move, a soft mumble of awe at how _beautiful_ you look like this, but you barely register the words. The sensations are too overwhelming, and for a short, few seconds, it feels like he's sent you to paradise and back.

You're not sure if you were breathing while you orgasmed, because when you come down from your high, you have to gasp for breath. Nails digging into his back once more, you clutch his frame like a lifeline until you have _some_ control over your body, some bearing over your movements.

 _None_ of your other clients are this committed to making you feel good. Only him. Only Lucifer.

The very knowledge turns him on.

Your breath hitches when you feel Lucifer's hips begin to move against yours once more, the demon keeping his thrusts slow but steady as he presses against your body.

You open your mouth to plead, to gasp, and to ask the demon to wait a little longer because it feels like your body is still quaking from the aftereffects of your first orgasm, but then you remember your place. That the goal is _his_ pleasure, not yours. That, and you're pretty sure he would only tease you if you asked him to wait, telling you that he's certain your body can take 'just a little bit more.'

"Nngh—" Lucifer bites back a moan, his eyes closed as he continues to drill into your body like he was born to do it.

"Don't be shy," You tease, trying to hide the shakiness in your voice and how _barely_ you conceal a moan. "Be loud for me, Lucifer."

The demon shoots you a glare, his fingers tensing around your skin harshly enough that it makes you gasp out—but you're still in more control than he is.

You can't describe how much you love the look in his eyes as you clench your insides around him, pulling a groan from his lips that he doubtlessly wanted to keep quiet.

It's always like this. An eternal game of push and pull. Whoever is closer to their climax is at the mercy of the person bringing them there; and just as Lucifer was staring at you so smugly as you came undone earlier, it's now _your_ turn to revel in his barely-concealed desperation, each thrust bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

"You think you're funny," He spits.

Lucifer's right. You do. You emphasize the sentiment with a cheeky grin, sending him a wink as you clench your insides again.

The demon closes his eyes, a barely contained moan slipping past his mouth, but when he reopens them, his expression is dark. Determined.

 _Dominant_.

"Keep smiling," The demon taunts, pushing your thighs up until your knees are next to your head, your ankles resting on his shoulders. "Let's see how long you can keep that up, hm?"

A single thrust is all it takes for your earlier confidence to shatter.

You don't realize you're moaning until you try to breathe, the noises in your throat tangling as you struggle for air through the monstrous pace Lucifer sets, thrusting into the depths of your body unlike anything you've ever felt before. This position enables him to go deeper than he's ever been, his cock stretching your walls as he rocks his hips against them, and his pace never falters.

"Holy fuck," You gasp, but you're not even sure if the words are audible over the sounds that fill the room: the headboard of your bed slamming against the wall every time Lucifer presses into you, the groans and gasps that neither of you are trying to hide any longer, the sounds of slapping skin which never seem to stop. You stare up at Lucifer, but it's hardly _him_ you're seeing, your mind so overwhelmed with pleasure that all you can make out is the red of his eyes, locked on to your body and never straying.

"Lucifer," You mumble, feeling the familiar pressure build inside you. "Lucifer, please."

You don't know _what_ you're asking for, but Lucifer does, because the moment his name rolls off your lips so desperately, his pace has grown faster, and you didn't think it was possible, but his thrusts are reaching even deeper, raw power backing his every movement.

You swear your whole world shatters when Lucifer moves one of the hands on your thighs to between your legs, circling at your clit.

"Lucifer, I can't—" You can barely speak properly with how hard he's railing you against the bed, but your sentiment comes through. _I can't hold it back._ And you know Lucifer must be close as well, because he doesn't order you to restrain yourself, and he doesn't pull back to tease you.

One more thrust is all it takes until you're gasping out his name, your ankles locking together as you grind your cunt against Lucifer's hand, and the demon fucks you through your high, never looking away.

The moments afterward go by in a haze, your body so overwhelmed that you barely register the way your core instinctively tightens, pulling Lucifer over the edge with you as he spills his seed inside. It all feels like too much too fast, and your mind is lagging miles behind your body, unaware of the fact that you've wrapped your arms around Lucifer until you hear his heavy breathing in your ear, the demon just as worn out as you are.

But when you feel him pull away, you fight through the fog of your mind to find the words you need to stop him.

"Lucifer," You manage to mumble, but it took you so long to find the words that the demon has already rolled out of bed, reaching for his shirt. "Lucifer, stay."

You wince when you realize the utter lack of tact in your words, abruptly realizing that you said the _wrong_ thing. These four walls are supposed to be the one spot in the world where no one orders him around, where no one forces him to do anything he doesn't want to do.

And he wants to stay with you, but only as long as it is _his_ choice.

"Wait—" You blurt, forcing your body off the bed. "I—I didn't mean to—it wasn't an order—I was just—I wanted you to stay—I mean, want—because I still do—want you to stay, I mean—but only if _you_ also want to, because—"

Lucifer presses a finger to your lip, silencing you instantly.

"I know what you meant." He offers you a soft smile. "But I have to get back. It's Mammon's turn to manage dinner tonight, and he'll probably try to order out, so I need to be there in case his card gets declined and—"

"You have five other brothers who can cover for him." You pull Lucifer closer to you, snatching his shirt out of his hand and throwing it back onto the ground. "You were exhausted when you came in, and you should only be _more_ tired now. Stay a few more hours. You don't need to throw yourself back into all that stress just yet."

But the demon looks unconvinced.

"Come on, Lucifer. Please." You tug him closer. "Do it for me. For my sake."

He cracks a smile at that, chuckling at your words. You're not fooling anyone—he knows that the reason you want him to stay is for his sake and his sake alone. It's hardly the first time you've tried to plead with him over this, centuries of seeing each other at night turning your relationship into more than just employer-and-employee exchange but a genuine _friendship_ , and as one of the few friends he has who can only _ask_ him to take care of yourself, you do all you can, whenever you can.

"Just tonight."

You shoot up at that, hardly expecting him to take you up on your offer.

"Really?" You mumble, cupping his face and studying his expression, trying to detect any hint of a lie. "You're being serious?"

"Yes," He mumbles, reaching over your body to retrieve one of the clean handkerchiefs you have stored in your drawers. "For your sake, though. I'm going to clean you up tonight. You're a mess."

Your mouth drops open in offense at that, but you quickly realize that Lucifer was referring less to _you_ and more to the mess _he_ made, because the moment he turns around, he's dabbing the handkerchief at the corners of your face, gathering the bits of cum from earlier that he hadn't found.

"Of course," You mumble, smiling and tugging his body next to you, so that you're both lying down. "For my sake."

"Who else's?" He asks, though the soft smile on his face tells you that he knows the truth just as much as you do.

You can see the traces of thankfulness lurking in his eyes, a quiet relief at the prospect of staying here for a while longer, even if it's not for long. It's the same look of relaxation he adorns the moment he steps inside your chambers, his eyes always flashing with recognition of the fact that the stress has vanished. That he’s safe inside, and the world can melt away for a bit longer. That these four walls are his sanctuary, and he is untouchable inside.

"Thank you," He mumbles into your hair when you're thoroughly cleaned up and the two of you are just relaxing, his arms are circled around you lazily.

You don't bother responding, not wanting to disturb the peaceful silence that has settled. All that matters is that Lucifer is finally relaxed as he closes his eyes next to you, the demon unstressed and unburdened for as long as you can keep him here.

**Author's Note:**

> Word count: 6.1k
> 
> Notes: This was an attempt to defeat writer's block - we'll find out soon if it worked :3 on another note, this was inspired by a concept: two people who are ready to love but aren't ready to be in love. It was interesting writing with a prostitute reader (I don't know anyone irl in sex work, so I deeply apologize for the inconsistencies), but this fic better reflects the dynamic I was originally going for when I wrote A Dark Place. 
> 
> Comment & Leave Kudos
> 
> Thank you for reading <3
> 
> I do not own the rights to Obey Me! or any of the characters within it.


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